


Episode One: "Pilot"

by SilverSnake15



Series: "Hood" (Fictional TV Show) [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Al Ghul, Amnesia, Batman - Freeform, Bread, Gang, Gang War, Gen, Gotham, Gotham City - Freeform, Jason Todd Loves Bread, Memory Loss, drug, drug trade, mental health, motorcycle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-22
Updated: 2015-05-22
Packaged: 2018-03-30 11:31:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3935221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverSnake15/pseuds/SilverSnake15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason has a fairly normal day (waking up from nightmares, working out, buying bread, etc.) that is rudely interrupted by a bunch of thugs, as well as Batman.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Episode One: "Pilot"

_Pain and laughter. He's not sure what came first, but neither has ended, and both are annoying as hell. Then again, he can hardly see or breathe properly at this point. He's scrambling on his hands and knees toward something, across a cold, hard surface (for what, he can't remember). Whatever he wanted must be gone, because he stops, collapses into a defeated little mess on the floor, and looks up just in time to see the last few seconds of his life tick away on the digital time bomb. Then he's thrown back and—_

_He wakes up feeling better than before; there's no aching, searing pain in his body. A bit of soreness maybe, but thinks he's okay._

_Until he realizes that he's /drowning/ in a weird green pool. He frantically moves his arms and legs through the liquid, barely making it to the surface in time. While he's panting and gasping for air, the water drips down his body in sticky paths._

_Sticky?_

_He looks down at his body._

_He's not wet from the pool of water. He's soaked in his own blood._

* * *

Jason Todd's eyes snapped open as a shaky gasp found its way out of his mouth. He took a quick look around and, finding himself safe at home in his shitty apartment, started to calm his breathing, which had become ragged at some point during the night.

It was six o' clock on a cloudy Saturday morning. Most would have gone back to sleep, but sleep hadn't been too kind to him for a while. He sat up, peeled the sweat-soaked sheets off of his toned body, and got out of bed, cursing as the bandage around a healing stab wound pulled taut. _Gotta change those before I go out_ , he reminded himself.

But first, Jason sunk down and a had short workout consisting of stretches, one-handed push-ups and weightlifting—he had a punching bag that was especially for the mood he was in (tired and irritable), but he didn't feel the need to wake up the residents with his problems. Then Mrs. Tomlinson and her fucking demon cat would be at his door, and everything would be even more complicated than it already was. He quickly caught his breath, stood up, and headed for the bathroom.

He took a good piss, then stepped into the shower.  _Awesome, the hot water's working today_ , he thought, pleasantly surprised. In this area of Gotham, just blocks away from where he had grown up, things like water and heat weren't always available, mainly because the big companies weren't used to people paying the utility bills. Jason let the hot water run over him, wincing as he unwrapped his bandages. After he rinsed his body, he took a while to use soap and wash his hair;  _might be the only chance I get this week_. But almost as soon as he closed his eyes and stepped underneath the spray emanating from the rusty shower head—

_C-can't breathe. I'm gonna die. Choking. Sinking._

Immediately, he started gulping for air and shaking, eventually backing away to the tile wall of the shower. He stayed there for a good twenty minutes, until the cold water shocked him back to his senses. "Fuck," he muttered, quickly washing the soap suds out of his hair before turning off the water and exiting the bathroom with a towel.

Jason dried off quickly, angrily tossing the cotton rag to the floor before pulling on boxers and sweats. He grabbed a medical kit and rewrapped his injured torso, then sat down at his computer, checking the news, the weather, and his many bank accounts. He scowled. One of the drug dealers he had been extorting hadn't paid his designated amount for the last two weeks.

"Son of a bitch wants to play, huh?" he growled. He got up and grabbed one of his various untraceable phones, dialing the number of the man's accountant.

"Hello?" 

"This is the Red Hood." Jason smiled to himself; the man began fumbling with papers and shit on the other line, panicking.

"Good m-mornin', Mr. Hood, s-sir. What c-can I-"

"Tell your boss to meet at our usual spot, 6:30 sharp. We need to talk." And then he hung up. Next, he went and poured himself a bowl of Cheerios before watching different shows on TV, chuckling occasionally. Once he was finished with his breakfast, he cleaned his various weapons with care, selecting two handheld guns for the night before putting them aside. He scraped unspeakable things off of his boots, then got dressed in civvies. He pulled his hood over his head to protect his recognizable hair, and went to the bakery. _After all, I'm runnin' low on bread._

He and the baker, Mr.Walters, were good friends; Jason was the old man's best customer, and Mr. Walters gave food to the poor kids for free.

"What are ya' lookin' to get today?" Mr. Walters asked, placing a pastry in the display window. Jason inhaled the delicious smell of fresh bread deeply and smiled, closing his eyes. Regretfully, he pointed out only a few items, knowing that if he didn't restrain himself, he'd buy the entire shop.

He was on his way home when he noticed a few guys his age clearly harassing a woman and her son. Jason cursed; _why couldn't everyone just leave well enough alone?_ He went over, setting his bag to the side. 

"Get your asses outta here. /Now/," he hissed. The men turned and laughed, each looking him over. Meanwhile, the girl and the kid were smart enough to get away. When the idiots realized what had happened, they rushed him.

It took no less than two minutes for Jason Todd to slam one into a wall, break the kneecap of another, and knock the last out. Then he grabbed his bag of bread and went home for a nap.

He decided to sleep until 5:00, which was when he got up, ate lunch, took another piss, carefully changed into his Red Hood costume (trusty jacket and helmet included), found his hidden motorcycle, and drove over to the spot where Devon Thomas, or "D-Ton" did most of his deals. By then, it was 6:20. Jason picked a spot higher up, eager to scare the scum of the criminal underworld With his entrance.

As expected, D-Ton and his men arrived right at 6:30. Jason stepped out of the shadows, making one guy almost back into another. Under his helmet, the Red Hood smiled, delivering the speech he always gave before an execution. But he wasn't expecting about twenty more men to arrive, shooting at him. Luckily, his suit was mostly bulletproof, and he managed to find cover. _Fuck_.

"Our little business arrangement's over, Hood!" D-Ton yelled down below, "I found a new boss, who wants you dead just as much as I do—Black Mask!" _That piece of cowardly shit._

That set him off. Jason looked over and quickly took down eleven of the thugs with perfectly aimed shots, before the automatic guns forced him to hide again. He couldn't run, he'd either get shot before he escaped or be chased back to his place. _Goddamnit_. But then, the men started screaming and yelling, some driving away by the sound of it. Until all was silent.

"Batman and Robin," he muttered, knowing who the new arrivals were before he even got out of his hiding place. Sure enough, a tall figure dressed in black body armor stood next to a shorter man wearing red, green, black, and yellow. He jumped down to stand a few feet from them. "Hey, Bats. Replacement. I don't need your help," Jason said.

"We came to arrest D-Ton's crew. But I offer you a piece of advice—stop this, before it gets out of hand," Batman- _Bruce_ -hissed.

"Didn't ask for your advice, either."

"You're running with gangsters. Who clearly betrayed you."

"I'm controlling the crime. And if you got rid of them like I did, there wouldn't be any for me to control in the first place."

"We don't kill. You crossed that line, and now you're one of them."

"But you won't bring me in, because I'm helping." He smirked under the red helmet.

"We won't bring you in, because we have bigger problems right now. That doesn't mean we won't be there to stop you. Look...all you have to do is come home. We can help you." Jason drew his gun and pointed it at Bruce's chest. 

"You had that chance a long time ago." Bruce stood quietly before he shot a grappling hook somewhere and flew off. Robin, as usual followed suit. And Jason lowered his gun. _Well, fuck._

* * *

 "Bruce Wayne is a very persistent individual. You must be wary of him, Jason," Talia Al Ghul spoke on the other end of the line.

"You think he'll come after me."

"He is a detective; he will not seek war with you. Within Gotham, I am afraid that he does not appreciate your brand of justice—"

"I don't give a damn what he thinks," Jason tried to interrupt, but the Demon's Daughter simply continued saying what she was trying to tell him.

"—but he is not your main concern. While he simply wants an end to your actions, Blask Mask wants you dead, and therefore Black Mask must be your focus. Once he is eliminated, you will have gained more power and infamy within the criminal underworld. Then, and only then, may you focus on the Batman. For now, evade him as you continue your mission." _Has a point._

"...thanks."

"I am always here to offer my aid to you. Along with anything else you might require." That much was true. After his resurrection, she'd not only helped repair what she could of his fragile mind, but helped him train to become stronger. _Strong enough so he wouldn't rely on Bruce, strong enough so he wouldn't get the shit beaten out of him again._ And when he and Talia became friends, he wasn't afraid to ask for something that they both had wanted at the time.

"Yeah, I know. Take care of yourself."

"But of course. And I expect you will do the same. Goodbye, Jason."

"Bye, Talia." He hung up and put the rest of his gear away, having discarded his helmet, heavy boots, and jacket as soon as he arrived at home. Once he was in his undershirt and boxers, he gave his weapon stash a once-over, smiling in the shadows of his apartment. _Black Mask was going to be destroyed in no time at all._

_Bruce had better watch his back._


End file.
